


Untitled Cabinverse #2

by Red



Series: Cabin 'Verse PWPs [2]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Anal Sex, Bicycles, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-18
Updated: 2008-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red/pseuds/Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for the PW kinkmeme, prompt having requested "copious body hair, sweat, grunting, musky man smells". Phoenix decides to ride his bike to pick up the dry cleaning, and Miles indulges his deep dark fetish for hot sweaty bicyclists? Again, no plot, but a lot of sex and possibly a bit of heatstroke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Cabinverse #2

Last time he was that cheap, he swore it. And this time he actually meant it--no amount of money was worth dying of heatstroke for, bicycling to the cheapest decent dry-cleaners' in town. Starting tomorrow, he'd find a real job, or a bus pass, or buy Trucy machine-washable capes. Or something.

At least there was some comfort in the universe. Lugging his bike into the apartment, he was happy to see that at least he had someone to which he could complain.

Still working on beating jet lag and restarting his sleep cycle, Edgeworth had slept in well past the usual Wright morning antics of fixing breakfast and negotiating chores and ignoring that pile of evidence Apollo always felt necessary to present whenever he came by to pick up his legal council. It had been hard for Phoenix to pull away from Edgeworth's lean body that morning--the air conditioner was on the fritz, so his hair was still plastered to his forehead in that just-fucked way--but Phoenix had to admit it was a nice rarity to be the first one awake. Attempting to beat the heat wave, he'd set off to pick up Trucy's dry-cleaning before Edgeworth had stirred.

Apparently he hadn't been long awake, either. His hair had the perfunctory finger-combed look to it, he hadn't showered or shaved, and from the distance he was sitting from the laptop, he couldn't even be assed with his contacts quite yet. The pants were from yesterday and the t-shirt was one that Phoenix was ninety-five percent certain was originally his own, but had been accidentally packed with Edgeworth's stuff so long ago that it had hopped owners.

All in all, it was really one of those 'I can't believe I get to fuck this guy' sort of moment. But after biking in that heat, Phoenix couldn't think of doing anything more than stand around with the refrigerator door open.

"Be glad we're retired," he said, carrying the bike into his room, "It's the temperature of the sun out there."

Maybe it was the heat, but Edgeworth's immediate deadpan response of, "We're not retired, and don't exaggerate," seemed far too reflexive. But heat or no, that was definitely below the acceptable bare minimum of banter. He informed Edgeworth of such as he crossed back through the living room, setting his bag on the couch, to the kitchen. Edgeworth said nothing. While it was a pity the Edgeworth wasn't biting, Phoenix supposed it was for the best: his own brain was pretty melted, and the fridge was calling...

"Wright, I can feel you drinking out of the pitcher," Edgeworth suddenly called from the living room, right as the water was about a millimeter from Phoenix' mouth.

Though they were technically his glasses, he knew it riled Edgeworth when he banged them on the counter. Draining two glasses of water, he walked into the living room with the third--but not before carrying out the Imperial Order of Making Sure We Don't Let the Filter Get Dried Out. Honestly, between Trucy and Edgeworth, a guy was lucky if he could so much as sneeze in his own apartment.

Sipping at the water, he glanced over Edgeworth's shoulder at the case file on the screen. He could immediately tell it was nothing pressing or interesting even by Edgeworth's low standards, so when Miles continued to squint at it, Phoenix playfully wrapped his arms around him.

"Time to hug it out, sweaty boyfriend style," he announced, embracing Edgeworth tightly and nuzzling his sweat-sticky face pesteringly against the curve of Miles' neck.

"You are such an imbecile," Edgeworth responded, leaning back a little into the embrace despite his annoyed tone. "Keep in mind: if you drop water on my laptop, you're in indentured servitude until you can afford to replace it."

Before pulling away, he gave Edgeworth a final tight squeeze, pinching his nipple through--yeah, that was totally his shirt, he remembered buying it now. Stepping back to finish off the water, he replied melodramatically, "But Miles... I'm already a slave to your heart!"

"I'm suddenly overwhelmed with the pressing need to vomit."

"Don't worry, baby, I'll take a shower," he said, half-joking.

It wasn't a surprise that Edgeworth didn't respond to the pet name--ten years of being unwillingly subjected to Phoenix Wright had successfully worn him to the point where he had to admit 'baby' was the least offensive of Wright's considerable repertoire--but getting pulled back by his sweat-soaked shirt was.

"You wouldn't dare," Edgeworth said, finally looking away from the screen to narrow his eyes at Wright. "You owe me for this morning."

"Hey, you were just fine when I got up."

It really didn't matter how hard he'd fucked or been fucked the previous night--and on that previous night, it had been pretty hard--Edgeworth's morning erections were as dependable as the sun. Phoenix liked sucking or jerking him off into that quick first-thing orgasm, but when he'd reluctantly rolled out of bed, Edgeworth's long cock was still resting limp against his thigh.

Keeping his shirt twisted in hand, Edgeworth leaned back to let Wright see the thick ridge of that dick pressing full against the zipper of his pants.

"Well, I'm not 'fine' now."

Wright laughed huskily. "Even with me smelling like a locker room?"

"Especially with you smelling like a locker room," Edgeworth admitted, voice low.

It was suddenly difficult to swallow. Broken air conditioning and imminent heat stroke be damned, Phoenix thought, and as Edgeworth shut down his laptop he leaned down to initiate a crushing, sloppily wet kiss. For once it was all stubble burn on his side--he'd actually shaved this morning, matters getting critical--and his dick seemed interested in the contrast. Edgeworth's mouth felt hotter than usual after all the cold water Wright had drank and the coffee Edgeworth had been nursing. Phoenix groaned into the kiss, feeling Miles lick his tongue and teeth--Miles tasted like toothpaste, what was likely one and a half cups of coffee, one of those weird pistachio things Trucy baked (trust Trucy to develop a sudden interest in baking during a heat wave), and the faint remains of that crazy smallest-nicotine-habit-ever single cigarette he just had to sneak the morning after getting his prostate thoroughly pounded. Though he had been itchy with sweat and the beginning of sunburn, Phoenix miraculously no longer noticed. He sucked hard at Edgeworth's tongue before breaking the kiss.

"I'll stink in the bedroom, too," he murmured, hot against Miles' lips. There was no telling how long the second day of court would be--and in this weather, they'd most likely just get stuck to the sofa.

They kept trying to grope and strip one another the whole way to his bed, and it made for clumsy going. Phoenix banged his head against the doorjamb accidentally, Edgeworth made the obligatory comment that Phoenix shouldn't have wasted money on a bike helmet, but soon enough Edgeworth was tripping them both onto the mattress. Despite the open window and the industrial fan, it was impossible not to catch the reek of sex that wafted up when they fell on that thing.

By the time they'd fumbled into sitting on the edge of the bed, Miles had somehow managed to get Phoenix out of his shoes, socks and pants, and Miles himself was only in that shirt and pants, too picky to put on the old underwear, too fastidious to put on a clean pair before a shower. Realizing Edgeworth was way more into his smell-thing (not as if Phoenix didn't find the thick, sharp smell of sweat and last night's fuck that hung off of Edgeworth insanely and primally enticing, but Miles was the guy who jerked off with this face in other people's armpits) than helping any further with clothes, Phoenix worked one hand down Edgeworth's pants, cupping his dick firmly. Phoenix smirked as Miles thrust up against his hand and kept biting at the still-damp collar of his shirt, kept licking at the sweat on Phoenix' collarbone as he eventually reached over to unzip Miles' pants with his other hand and push them down clumsily.

Giving Edgeworth's cock a few long, slow jerks, just to work some precome up to mark his shirt, Phoenix was struck with the usual irrepressible urge to get his head between Edgeworth's legs. When Edgeworth stalled him from kneeling to the floor with a hand clenched at his shirt, he sighed.

"Miles, I'll take of the damn shirt and you can wank with that. Just let me go down on you, okay?"

Looking embarrassed--why, Phoenix didn't know, not like Miles wasn't damn obvious about his kinks; not like Phoenix didn't have his own collector's set of them--Miles pulled back. When Phoenix knelt between his legs, though, he smirked and tilted his head back, full of himself as ever once again.

"All right, but not too much. I want to pay you back for last night," he said.

"Please," Phoenix replied in a token protest, hands already rubbing the firm muscles of Edgeworth's thighs, fingers already trailing through the thick dusting of pale hair, "I can suck your cock as much as I like."

"Hmm. Hey," Edgeworth interrupted, pulling at the back of his shirt when he began to bend his head forward, "Don't forget your end of the bargain."

Phoenix laughed and tugged his shirt off, tossing it playfully at Edgeworth's head. Throwing it aside, Edgeworth rubbed Phoenix' shoulders affectionately, sighing as Wright licked and nipped a trail up his inner thigh.

The musky smell of Miles' crotch sent a sharp furl of arousal through his body. He never got enough of seeing Miles like this: thighs parted, dick fully hard and curved against his belly, balls tight up to his body despite the overwhelming heat from his heavy arousal. Wright rubbed his nose through the thick pubic hair to catch the heady smell of sweat and come, before licking slow from base to tip. As he swiped languid and broad-tongued over the damp glans, he sighed happily. Not only did he have Edgeworth groaning above him and that cock hot in his mouth, but Miles had slid his hands down to scratch pleasantly at Wright's chest, where shirt and sweat had stuck the hair down. In appreciation, he mouthed his way down to Miles' balls.

It was nothing he liked--he was so sensitive in that regard, the lightest brush of Miles' fingertips was enough for him--but Miles adored having his scrotum lathed in wet laps, almost swore every time Phoenix took that delicate flesh gingerly into his mouth. As he bathed the thin skin with his spit, he slid a hand back to play with Miles' ass. There was no way he couldn't moan low in his throat then, finding Miles still a little loose, still a little slick with lube and the load he'd shot in him last night.

He felt Miles' thigh tense at his side from the vibration. Drawing back, he kept his motions light and teasing for a moment--just circling his finger lightly inside Edgeworth's entrance, pressing gentle, ghosting kisses to the wrinkled flesh--before he slipped gradually back to that half-crazed pace, feeling dizzy and mindless from the heat and Edgeworth's smell. Too soon, Miles was pushing gently at his shoulder as he mouthed feverishly, telling him he honestly didn't have long to decide if he really wanted to be fucked. Reluctantly, Phoenix gave a few last teasing licks before pulling back to grin up at him.

Edgeworth's shirt was almost as sweat-damp as Phoenix' own had been, his hair was disheveled and stuck to his forehead, and on his forearms his veins stood out in stark detail. If Phoenix wasn't so certain he and Edgeworth would murder each other by August, he'd never fix that air conditioner, just to have weeks of Edgeworth looking like that.

"So how do you want me, sexy?"

Edgeworth gave him that special 'you called me something which offended my sensibilities greatly and I'll never admit I'm charmed by it' sort of glare. "Provided my penis isn't in it, with your mouth shut," he replied. "Come on, get up here."

"Whatever you say, hot stuff," he agreed, moving back to sit on the edge of the mattress by Miles.

"Considering the inhuman conditions of your apartment, I'm not really sure how that functions as a compliment," Miles grumbled, standing and pulling his shirt off, revealing the rest of that body Phoenix could never get enough of, the firm lines of the muscles of his chest and arms, muscles Phoenix had tested many times, wrestling against and being restrained by; his pale skin. As ever, Wright was drawn to the little imperfections: the always-surprising scatter of light freckles on Edgeworth's strong shoulders, the faint scar from the more-traumatic-for-Phoenix appendectomy two summers ago, the bruise from last week when he'd got a little too feisty with a bite mark, the trail of hair leading to that impressive cock.

Pushing his boxers off, Phoenix grinned, knowing full well what Miles was thinking. It was a familiar position, but one they didn't get into nearly often enough these days. Though the bed was technically too low, making fucking like this not-inconsiderably athletic for Miles, that still made for a good morning workout of a screw. The problem was that the frame tended to knock against the wall far more often and the springs always seemed to protest much more loudly. It might be great for a morning of rough sex, but it just wasn't the most conductive position to being a dad.

Leaning back on his elbows, legs and half his ass hanging off the bed, he watched amused and eager as Edgeworth turned to frown at the dresser.

"You can't even see the drawer the lube is in, can you?" he provoked. Edgeworth's vision wasn't all that terrible, but it was a continual source of amusement to Phoenix that Miles preferred squinting at the world to wearing glasses if he needed to have the contacts out.

"Wright, do keep in mind I can see enough to smack you upside the head," Edgeworth snapped, grabbing the bottle from the dresser.

Spreading his legs and lifting them towards his chest, bracing with arms curled around the backs of his knees, he smirked lazily up at Miles, who had moved to stand close. "Hmm, you promise, baby?" he teased.

Edgeworth shook his head and muttered Phoenix was a hopeless case, but they were both already far more interested in the spluttering of the lube bottle (Phoenix struck with the exasperating thought that he just bought that) and their sharp need to keep up the banter.

The lube was blessedly cool as Edgeworth slid his coated fingers down the cleft of Wright's ass. Tilting his hips a little to give Edgeworth more room to circle the tight ring of muscle, Phoenix sighed. Leaning back more fully and adjusting to support his legs with one arm, he reached down to stroke his own cock idly. It was always breathtaking to watch Edgeworth prep him, large hands working his body carefully, expression so surreally serious as he concentrated on stretching and lubing the tight passage.

He felt Miles' hand falter a little at the display--he'd started jerking leisurely and deliberate, over-emphasizing the motion of foreskin dragging slow over and back on glans, just the way Miles liked to tease him--and he pushed back needy against the finger buried deep in his ass, smirking.

"Do I need to cancel tonight's game?"

In retaliation, Edgeworth shoved another slick finger alongside, twisting them sharp against Wright's prostate, making Phoenix' breath catch; he drew a deep grunt as he scissored them. Feeling well past ready to be fucked, Phoenix wanted to crack another joke, to urge Miles to get on with it already. But with Miles mercilessly fingering him like that, he just couldn't articulate the words. The best he could manage was to hook his legs encouraging and tight around Edgeworth's hips, and try to urge him forward.

Edgeworth finally complied and leaned over him, balancing his weight with one hand splayed in the sheets crumpled by Wright's side. The head of his cock pressed hard and slick against the back of Wright's thigh as he adjusted position, but still he kept grinding his fingers deep. Phoenix growled and pulled his body in tighter with his legs.

"Christ, Miles. You don't need to wait for an invitation," he grumbled, wrapping arms reddened with the beginning of sunburn around Edgeworth's broad shoulders. "Your dick practically lives there anyway."

"Your romantic nature never fails to surprise," Edgeworth remarked, as, with a final twist, he pulled his fingers from Wright's ass. Watching the play of the muscles in his forearm as Edgeworth slicked the lube still left on his hand over his prick, Phoenix licked his lower lip and scooted a little more of his ass off the side of the bed. Even if he was sore from biking and sunburn, there were just some things you needed in life, and getting thoroughly fucked by an energetic Miles Edgeworth was one of them.

Leaning his other hand on the bed, Edgeworth staggered his legs to get the right angle. Phoenix was tempted to sit up a little to lick the sheen of sweat from the hollow of Edgeworth's throat, but he didn't dare change position, greedy for that cock to get in him. Edgeworth's first thrust was a little low, and had his dick press a slick line along the cleft of Wright's ass, but the second...

"God," Wright gasped, almost reverent, as Miles pushed in a relentless glide until his balls were pressed flush against Wright's feverish skin. He ground his hips down, managing to get an angle that pushed his cock impossibly, almost painfully deeper.

Edgeworth let out the breath he'd been holding, and looked smugly down at Wright. He'd let his hands skim down the long plane of Edgeworth's back to cup his ass, encouraging him to go on and fuck him through the mattress. After a few moments of just lying there panting, Phoenix managed to grin lopsidedly up at Edgeworth.

"Is that satisfactory?" Edgeworth asked, sounding cautious but amused.

Phoenix shook his head and bucked his hips up against him. "Isn't fishing for compliments below you, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Perhaps," Edgeworth agreed absently. Satisfied with Wright's smartass answer, he drew his hips back only to slam roughly in once more, starting a brutal rhythm.

It was all Phoenix could do to clench his limbs tighter against Edgeworth's thrusting body and remember to get enough air. Edgeworth's long dick was one of those cocks that curved up when hard, arcing smooth toward his stomach, and though that meant under-the-table blowjobs could be a bit of a chore, it made fucking face-to-face a nearly religious experience. With every snap of his hips, the head of Edgeworth's cock nailed Wright's prostate, leaving him mindlessly and incoherently begging for more.

Years of quiet late-night gropes, experimenting where the springs squeaked the least, and voiceless slow fucks interrupted constantly with the slightest unusual is-she-having-a-nightmare, was-that-a-door sound, had trained them into being almost silent lovers. The loudest noises in the room were the steady creak of the bed, the low knock of the frame against the wall, the pornographic slap of skin on skin, and the constant rattling of the lamp threatening--but never, in all these years, actually succeeding--to fall off the dresser. Only beneath those sounds were Miles' sharp exhalations as he remembered to breathe, and Phoenix' soft whispered curse-laden encouragement, a near-inaudible mantra of "fuck, Miles, come on, goddamn it, you can fuck me harder, come on, I know you, baby." Both took it as a very deep compliment to tear a louder sound from the other, and knowing they had the apartment to themselves, they took every opportunity.

It was an intense, deep fuck, and the angle was just perfect. But, frustratingly, Phoenix found himself struggling to keep it. After the long bike ride, his legs were still a little rubbery and exhausted, and the sweat of their bodies had them continuously threatening to slip from Edgeworth's rutting hips. He would shift and cross them tighter behind Miles' back, and just when he'd manage to forget about them, a muscle would twitch and his grip would start to slide again.

Though it was distracting, he had figured it was manageable and well worth the bother. He gave an irritated and disappointed sigh when, after a few minutes of this Miles stopped and pulled back, letting Wright's arms slip from his shoulders.

"If you have to think about it, it's not a good position," Edgeworth advised brusquely, but with a look of amusement. Annoyed at the betrayal of his own muscles, Phoenix was about to huff and tell Miles that he damn well could pick up the dry-cleaning next time, when Edgeworth straightened his position, shifting his weight back off his arms. Without a word, he firmly gripped Wright's legs, hooking his arm around the left while leaving it balanced on his hip, and encouraging Phoenix to lift the right to lean it on his shoulder, holding Phoenix' thigh tight against his chest.

"Tilt your hips a little more," Miles instructed, kneading the tense muscle of Phoenix' thigh, "I've got your legs, stop tensing up. Relax into it."

"Damn," he muttered. Though it was a little embarrassing to have his legs wuss out like that, Miles was pretty sexy when he was bossy. He had to admit that was nearly all the time, but still... Watching Miles confidently readjust their position and feeling him prod and rearrange his legs made Phoenix shiver. For a short moment it felt impossible to relax--legs still tense, still feeling as if they were about to slide off Edgeworth and ruin that perfect penetration--but Edgeworth's grip seemed steady and certain. He took a deep breath and let Edgeworth deal with slack muscle, fisting the bed sheets in his hands as he prepared to bear their weight and the force of the thrusts on his shoulders and arms.

And, holy fuck, it was good. Edgeworth held him tightly and used his legs as a counterbalance, and with his leg thrown over Miles' shoulder it felt like Miles was crawling into his body, the thrusts were so deep. He watched Edgeworth for a few unyieldingly firm snaps of his hips--groaning quietly as he noticed Edgeworth's gaze was fixed unwaveringly on his thick cock driving into and spreading Wright's ass--before he had to toss his head back and close his eyes, just taking the steady penetration and loving it.

As Edgeworth kept screwing into him, the relentless drag of cockhead over prostate made him drip precome onto his clenched belly. The thought to reach down and jerk off came and went--he couldn't spare a hand, bracing Edgeworth's thrusts; and with that constant harsh thrusting, it felt like Edgeworth was going to just force an orgasm from him, whether he was ready for one or not.

His breath was all quick gasps and swearing, and he knew he was rapidly approaching climax--just as well, he thought absently, because he knew he'd be feeling this in his ass and legs all day and it was a good thing he already had a game lined up tonight, because that piano bench could be hell on his rear--so he began clenching his muscles in tight pulses around Edgeworth's dick.

Thinking he'd gloat at Edgeworth's grunt of surprise and arousal, Phoenix opened his eyes. But at the sight of Edgeworth flushed and frowning with that look of intense focus he got when he was trying desperately not to come and just coated in sweat, all Phoenix could do was moan. They were going to give each other aneurysms one of these days, he thought, and they were going to form an extremely awkward scene for the coroner's office.

"Miles," he groaned, pushing back against the thrusts, "Damn, you don't... Fuck, I'm gonna shoot any minute, stop holding back."

Edgeworth shook his head a little, flecks of sweat landing on Phoenix' thigh and stomach. "I..." he began roughly before swallowing twice to get his voice, "I just need to see you come, Phoenix. Please."

"Heh, you--fuck--you kinky bitch," he growled.

"You're... one to--"

"Shut up and jerk me off," he interrupted. "I've got my leg that long."

Edgeworth hissed a low, "pushy..." but obligingly let go of his left leg. Still thrusting deep, Miles began pumping his dick in the long, firm strokes he used those rare times he didn't mean to tease.

It only took a few jerks before Phoenix was involuntarily clenching tight, his dick pulsing in Edgeworth's grip, shooting hard across his stomach and chest.

His leg did slide off Miles then, but luckily Edgeworth was close behind. Grunting, he buried himself deep one last time, and let himself come from the wild contractions of Phoenix' climax.

Panting below him, Phoenix' breath caught as he felt Miles shoot deep. For a mere second, Miles was about to slump forward, but, despite his own post-orgasmic lassitude, Phoenix pushed back at him hurriedly.

"Okay, no, no. You're going to snap my leg off."

"Hmmph," Edgeworth commented intelligently. Reluctantly, he moved back and rubbed Wright's thigh in wordless apology as he pulled out, before flopping exhausted onto the bed. Wright immediately shoved the arm Edgeworth threw over his chest off.

"Ugh, don't. It's too damn hot, Miles."

"'M glad to know your love is so conditional," Edgeworth grumbled, obediently leaving a few inches of mattress between them.

Phoenix laughed and stretched, lazily soaking up the cool breeze from the fan and enjoying the wet, just-fucked ache in his ass. They lay in companionable silence for a few moments, half-dozing even though it was still well before noon. Eventually, Phoenix moved to grab his shirt--the one he'd been wearing, anyway--to wipe the come off his stomach.

"It was a loss to begin with," he explained before Edgeworth could even formulate his horrified complaint. Phoenix dropped it unceremoniously on Edgeworth, smirking at his annoyed scowl. "Anyway, it'll make laundry day more interesting for you."

"I don't recall being told anything about this 'laundry day,' Wright."

"Well, you wouldn't. Somebody slept through chore division."

Edgeworth mustered up his best glower. "I am a guest, and guests are not traditionally assigned chores," he argued, despite the years of previous visits in which he'd been perfectly amiable to cook dinners and breakfasts. In Edgeworth's opinion, laundry was merely a chore to be delegated to others.

"'Guest?' You're one of the original honorary Wrights," Phoenix said, smugly.

"Phoenix, it's not an honor when anything that doesn't run fast enough is an 'honorary' Wright."

Sufficiently cooled by the fan to consider moving from the bed, Phoenix rolled over to kiss the pale freckles on Edgeworth's shoulder before sitting up.

"Maybe," Phoenix admitted, looking absently off in the distance. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and pulled them perfunctorily back on, thinking of finally getting that shower. As he went to the dresser to root out some clean clothes--the supply was low, someone had better get to work--he turned to grin at Miles.

"But you know, not all of them get to wash my come-drenched shirts."

**Author's Note:**

> Again, for the Kinkmeme. Original prompt and former edit are located here: http://bludhavens.livejournal.com/26058.html?thread=6579402#t6579402, and the prompt read (simply enough):
> 
> "Hobo/Edgey
> 
> My kink being manly!sex and more specifically manly!miles
> 
> I want copious body hair, sweat, grunting, musky man smells! I want testosterone laden hot rough sex!
> 
> /fans self
> 
> Please anons?"


End file.
